


Seven Folded Oceans

by Byacolate



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Mutual Admiration of Enormous Women, Oneshot, Orlan Watcher, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:05:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: Tekēhu enjoys a feast at sea.





	Seven Folded Oceans

**Author's Note:**

> I'd started this months ago while playing Deadfire after meeting Auāta. Then ten minutes into Beast of Winter, seeing Tekēhu again kicked me in the teeth with love, and it had to be finished.
> 
> The Watcher depicted here is an orlan, but otherwise fairly nondescript.

“Do not be startled.” 

  


She nearly tripped over her own boots in the middle of kicking them off at the door, eyes flying to her bunk. Tekēhu regarded her, sprawled out over her bed like a piece of art, looking mostly contrite. 

  


“That's not really how surprise works,” she coughed, thumping at her own chest. He spread his hands. 

  


“But this is surely a better surprise than most.”

  


She shut the cabin door behind her and pulled off her last boot, looking him over with a discerning eye. He preened under the attention, and why shouldn't he: it was he who positioned himself as one might a full-course spread. 

  


“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” she asked, tucking her thumbs into her belt. Tekēhu did notice her appreciation for his teeth the way that he appreciated hers, and so he smiled.

  


“‘Tis but a thought. Lay with me awhile?”

  


Her ears twitched. Tekēhu had little reason to notice in the past, but there was much delight to be found in the body language of orlans: Their noses wiggled and their ears professed to every little errant thought. They grinned when they were pleased and when they were very, very angry. 

  


And sometimes the scent of an alpha predator could come from someone rather small.

  


Tekēhu knew that her scrutiny was for show, and wished to play as well. He let his thighs splay apart until one leg dangled off the side of her bed. He knew himself to be a fetching prize, and knew it still when the Watcher’s cat eyes followed the line of his long legs. They stopped upon his robes where they parted to obscure what lay between his thighs.

  


She tossed her wide hat upon the desk at her bedside before crawling into the bunk. The bed was not nearly big enough for Tekēhu alone, so there was little room for her that was not atop him. Tekēhu rolled over onto his back to accommodate her stride.

  


“Hope I'm not too heavy for you,” said she, as ever tongue-in-cheek. 

  


“I say, you are not! Were I upon _your_ frame, however…” 

  


The Watcher cracked a toothy smile, for she had spent her fair share of time underneath his mighty girth. 

  


She scraped her claws over the scales on his chest, drawing shivers from Tekēhu. 

  


“How shall I lay with you this time,  _ my handsome fish?” _

  


Ori o Koīki loomed in the distance - if Tekēhu looked out the window, he would still feel its gaze upon them. The Watcher’s voice was rough from a decade's love affair with pipe-smoke but she made it lower still. Tekēhu knew an impression when he heard one, and Auāta’s voice was not difficult to hear from the Watcher’s mouth. He sighed and began divesting her of her armor. 

  


“Now that was a feisty venture indeed,” he mused as she raised her arms to fling her tunic to the floor. “Auāta was a deft hand around a binding rope. And did you see her arms?”

  


“She could've snapped you like a twig,” the Watcher agreed. Tekēhu’s sigh was laden with nostalgia.

  


“She very well might have.”

  


Leaning forward with a hand braced against his chest, the Watcher tugged at the waist of her breeches before wriggling her way out of them. “Not to fire my own cannon, but if I put my back into it, I could probably snap your big toe.”

  


“Stop,” he entreated. “My loins can only take so much stimuli.” 

  


“Then they have my apologies.” She sat upright and naked on his sternum, fingering through her wild hair. When Tekēhu placed his hands upon her waist, his thumbs and forefingers met around her. He grinned to himself. 

  


Then she kissed him, and he opened up to her as a flower to the sun. The pads of her fingers smoothed along the scales of his jaw, and her clever tongue had him alight. She tasted of tani cream, a soft bloom of sweetness upon his lips. Tekēhu reached down with one hand and fumbled with his robes until they came loose about his waist. 

  


“I am yours whenever you will have me, captain,” Tekēhu said, his voice filled with a terrible longing as she drew her fingers through the tentacles of his hair that rose up to greet her. 

  


“What do you mean,  _ whenever?” _ Her fingers twined about the tendrils that caressed her before tightening her grip. Tekēhu's eyelashes fluttered. “Always. I've got you, always.”

  


She'd been eating crown fruit on this voyage, and lots of it - he could taste it when he dragged her forward by her round hips and set his mouth a-happily to work. There was plenty to eat aboard, but she preferred to partake in the tangy yellow fruit that burned her tongue and stuck sweetly to her lips. Tekēhu preferred another morsel entirely. The Watcher twitched, her thighs restless about his ears. With his nose buried against the fragrant fur below her belly, Tekēhu indulged himself in her.

  


His lips parted and kissed at her pearl, and when she growled he did it again. The tendrils of his hair reached out, curling around her thighs as though to keep her in place. For once, they were of a mind with Tekēhu. 

  


He lifted both hands to curve around her thighs. One spread her wider with two fingers; the other pressed his thumb inside her. She quivered against him, like she could only barely keep herself still. Tekēhu was careful with his teeth against such delicate parts of her.

  


When he put his mind and tongue to it, it was a quick thing to bring her to the height of passion. She bent back and braced herself upon his stomach as he liquefied her limbs. Her thighs were tight and trembling around his ears until at last they went slack.

  


She flopped back against him. Her hair tickled his stomach, but that was not why he laughed. 

  


“Tired already?” he teased, carding his fingers through the fur on her belly.

  


“Exhausted.”

  


Again he chuckled. He would offer her a reprieve, though the ache in him was fierce. “Then we shall stop for the evening. I am happy to resume on the morrow. Or at any time.”

  


She struggled to sit up, planting her elbows in his gut (- _“Oof._ Easy, captain!”) 

  


“No, I can assuredly take care of you.”

  


“Can you? You seem barely able to sit.”

  


The Watcher fell back again with nary more than a sigh.   “Then perhaps you could help yourself.”

  


She spread her thighs a little further in illustration. It was a tempting offer. “I thank you, but there is little satisfaction to be had if you are too weary even to enjoy it.”

  


“I'd enjoy it,” she mumbled, but did not argue further when he set her to rights. There was little enough room in bed, so Tekēhu rolled to his side and took her with him, situating the Watcher against his chest. He ignored the hot brand between his legs, though it taxed him greatly.

  


She breathed through her nose, half content and half not. “I imagine Auāta would not tire so easily.”

  


“No. But Auāta does not captain a ship, or ferry souls to the Wheel, or chase gods across the sea.” 

  


“But she could snap you in half.”

  


“There is no better way to die,” Tekēhu agreed. His passion was most loathsome in this moment, and he was happy enough to feel it begin to wane. “You speak of Auāta often this night. For what has she left such an impact upon you?”

  


The Watcher lay quiet for a time against him. “I think… for all your past lovers I have met, she was most ardent among them. Only Ondra has spoken so possessively of you.”

  


He supposed that was true, though he had not taken notice until she said it. But - “My mother speaks of me?”

  


“Incessantly.” Of this she sounded more weary than before. “I can't so much as look in your direction without some intervention from her.”

  


His curiosity was piqued. “Intervention?”

  


“Oh yes. She warns me of my unworthiness, and dotes upon your visage, and waxes poetic on your potential. _Endlessly.”_

  


He was torn between preening and the contriteness of a sheepish son. “And you…?”

  


“I have learned to let her say her piece.”

  


The Watcher rarely withheld her cutting tongue when she found something deserving of its lashes; Tekēhu was touched by her restraint, knowing it was for his sake. He nestled his face in her hair, where she smelled strongly of the sea.

  


“Of what does she find you unworthy?”

  


She snorted. “It would be quicker to explain the ways in which she doesn't.”

  


The Watcher yawned loudly enough for her jaw to crack. Tekēhu kissed her between the ears. “Ekera, it is no matter. She does not see you as I do.” He kissed her again, this time on the fuzzy flesh behind one long ear. It flicked back against his cheek. “Will you not rest now, captain? I smell sleep on you like a shroud, and yet you do not yield to its pall.”

  


“Yes yes, fine. I'm sleeping. I'm asleep.” She readjusted his arm under her head like a pillow and released a sigh far too deep for the size of her lungs. 

  


The waves rocked him too. Tekēhu could almost imagine its comforting motion to be his mother's change of spirit, if he could ever hope to be so blessed. 

  


_ Look kindly upon her, _ he entreated silently, feeling the one in his arms still to slumber.  _ Look kindly, as she looks upon me. _

  


The sea held them aloft. But Ngati had no words for him.  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a high fantasy comic about a wandering bard! [Check it out from the beginning HERE!](https://bardbouquet.tumblr.com/post/179195348759/a-dwarven-heirloom-a-blade-in-the-dark-and-a)
> 
>  
> 
>  _89\. I think I promised you something._  
>  90\. Seven folded oceans.  
> 108\. So simple, how far.  
> \- "Float" Anne Carson
> 
> My Tumblr: [wardencommando](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).  
> Details about fic reque$t$ [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/post/175675914506)  
> 


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